


Mirror, Mirror

by girlgoneblack



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (a lot), Feelings, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, One-sided feelings, Pining Thor (Marvel), Pre-Canon, Pre-Thor (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 18:47:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15802422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlgoneblack/pseuds/girlgoneblack
Summary: Based onthis promptposted by the-sun-shining-on-thorki on tumblr.Loki is fitting for his new, adult armour when Thor enters the room.





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out [the post](http://the-sun-shining-on-thorki.tumblr.com/post/177308518936/i-want-a-fic-in-which-loki-in-pre-thor-is-fitting) by the-sun-shining-on-thorki that inspired this work! I didn't exactly follow the prompt, but hey - inspiration works in mysterious ways.
> 
> This work is not beta-ed nor has been re-read, and English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any potential mistake.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Cheers!

   “I prefer the golden one.”

   “Excellent choice, my prince. His Royal Highness does indeed have a very good taste in clothing” congratulated the tailor, a balding, lanky, and awfully scrawny, old man.

   Loki eyed himself in the tall, golden framed mirror. He spotted out of the corner of his eye the tailor waving to his assistants to make notes of their prince’s choices for his new, ceremonial armour. His first “adult” armour. An armour worthy of a king.

   Except _he_ wouldn’t be king.

   Loki’s lips pressed into a thin line. It’s been a few months now that Odin announced his brother’s coronation. That he publicly admitted his preference for the older prince of Asgard. Naturally, no one even cared; no one dared to blink. For the people of Asgard, Thor had always been the obvious choice for a king. Tall, powerful, all hard muscles and tanned skin. The Asgardian ideal.

   The golden god of thunder.

   Of course, the coronation wasn’t going to be right away. His perfect brother would have to wait a little while before his huge ego could grow even more. Sometimes, Loki wondered if that ego would ever _blow up_.

   “Would His Royal Highness like to also try the helmet on?” asked the tailor with his annoyingly slow drawl.

   Loki instinctively brought a hand up to smooth the few strands sticking out of his perfectly slicked back, raven hair. He eyed the image reflected to him, framed in old, heavy gold. He looked tired, pale, so very frail. But the spark burning in his venomous eyes was still there – it never died. Even if, at that moment, all he wanted to do was to destroy the whole room with fire conjured from his fingers and run away to hide in a cold, quiet place. The anger, the desperation he felt at the fact that his first real armour was made for Thor’s coronation – because _everything_ had always been for _Thor_ , everything of his belonged to _Thor_ somehow, his perfect brother who just took, and took, and never gave back – were bubbling under the surface of his icy skin, threatening to explode, to see the light of the day; but he had to keep them where they were. Always hiding. Always pretending.

   Lying.

   “Yes, I would.”

   His jet-black hair soon disappeared under the golden helmet, adorned with two big horns that curled back to the back of his head. It gave his face an even sharper shape than usual, all cutting angles and salient cheekbones.

   He took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. The corner of his mouth went slightly up, but Loki quickly schooled it into a carefully neutral expression. He wasn’t about to start acting like _Thor_. Always so proud of himself, so self-centred and so arrogant. Although in that moment, Loki couldn’t have lied to himself even if he’d wanted to. He felt _it_ – felt the same way Thor must have been feeling every single day of his life – that arrogance, that self-love and satisfaction expanding his heart.

   _He_ looked like a king, now, with his dark, green cape, his golden chest plate drawing intricate patterns on his torso, his dark breeches hugging his slender muscles, and his heavy, leather boots making him seem taller – _bigger_. And for a split second, with all this heavy gold on him, with the golden rays of the setting sun shining through the tall windows, he felt that _he_ was becoming king, that _he_ was the golden, beloved prince of all Asgard.

   But Loki was never much of a dreamer, and so his always attentive brain whispered to him a reminder that it was exactly for this reason that he chose _gold_ – to at least try to equal his golden brother, to at least try to come closer to him in his splendour, brightness and shine. Gold instead of his beloved silver.

   Silver suited the green of his cape better.

   Perfect for the snake that he was.

   Loki didn’t get the time to dwell much on his tumultuous feelings because the heavy, oaken doors of his quarters were opened suddenly and _Thor_ marched into the room, his red cape floating behind him.

   Loki couldn’t help rolling his eyes and glaring at his brother’s reflection in the mirror. This rude idiot didn’t even bother knocking.

   Thor’s electric blue eyes immediately settled on the younger prince, finding him amongst the small crowd of people around him. They caught Loki’s gaze in the mirror, and neither of them moved for a moment.

   Loki felt, just for a split second, that the world was slowing down, that the noises quieted down and their surroundings dimmed a bit just to allow them to look at each other’s reflection for that brief instant. Thor stared at his brother, raking his eyes all over his clothed body, with that spark in his navy eyes – that unusual spark, but which Loki had become accustomed to, since it had been there for some years now. It was still odd to see it in his brother’s eyes – almost like it didn’t belong there, like it _couldn’t_ be there, like it had no right whatsoever to find its way to Thor’s gaze when directed at the younger prince. Loki almost shuddered under Thor’s stare – he was _this close_ to doing it. And yet he didn’t. But only because he was used to seeing this odd glint there.

   “My prince!” exclaimed the tailor, spotting Thor standing in the doorway.

   All the assistants and maid hurriedly started bowing and saluting their future king. Loki’s eyes thinned into mere slits.

   “I see you have finished with the fitting of your new armour, my prince” noted the tailor as Thor approached the centre of the room, his eyes never once leaving Loki.

   That’s when Loki noticed it – Thor’s outfit. The outfit he would wear when becoming _king_.

   It was made with taste, yet very simple. The navy breeches complimented Thor’s eyes well, and his usual crimson cape gave him unexpected allure. But instead of the gold Loki had thought Thor would use, a simple, silver chest plate ornamented his muscular torso.

   Loki felt… Almost disappointed.

   “I’m almost finished, brother” Loki said in the smoothest, most neutral voice he could muster up. “I’ll join you afterwards for whatever you need me for.”

   Thor’s eyes widened a bit, shifting to a deep, midnight blue, and Loki could have sworn he heard his brother utter a chocking sound.

   “Leave us” he said to the tailor, and by extension to all the servants gathered in the room, and Loki admitted to himself that even he was surprised by his brother’s rather harsh tone.

   But again, Thor had always been extremely arrogant and haughty.

   “Why, brother, surely you can wait a bit for…”

   “ _Loki_ ” interrupted his brother, his grumbling voice bearing a hint of a warning now.

   The poor tailor instinctively made a small step back, visibly shocked. Thor’s burning eyes never once left his brother, and Loki was sure that if they were to be directed at the gangly, old man, he would have fled on the spot.

   Loki pressed his lips together, barely refraining himself from snapping at Thor.

   _Let’s not make a scene_ , he reminded himself to calm his boiling blood down. _Not in front of all these people_.

   “Of course, my prince” answered the tailor, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “We’ll just undress His Highness of his new…”

   “ _No!_ I said, _leave!_ ” Thor cut him mid-phrase, a snarl plastered on his face.

   Loki would have laughed at his brother for being so dramatic if he wasn’t so incredibly annoyed with Thor at that moment.

   The little crowd hastily left the room, the tailor a terrified expression on his face. As soon as the door closed behind them, leaving the two princes of Asgard alone, Loki let his neutral expression fall.

   “You didn’t have to cause a scene, _Thor_ ” he growled, not even trying to hide how utterly pissed off he was.

   His brother didn’t reply anything, slowly approaching him from behind, and Loki held his gaze in the mirror, twisting his lips in a furious grimace.

   “And quit, for the love of all the Norns, always deciding everything for me” he continued his angry rant, his eyes now mere slits as he glared at Thor, who was now standing directly behind him. Loki could almost sense the heat radiating from his golden, sun-kissed brother as he breathed down his exposed neck. “I’m not yours to command. You’re not yet…”

   He was cut mid-sentence by the feeling of his brother’s surprisingly cool fingers sliding on the exposed patch of skin on the nape of his neck.

   For a moment, Loki forgot how to breath. Thor’s fingers left a burning trace wherever they brushed, and Loki had to clench his hand into a fist to prevent himself from shuddering.

   _Fool_.

   “What are you doing?” he asked, his throat closing up and his voice rougher than he intended.

   Thor didn’t reply anything and ran his hand down his brother’s clothed arm. He held Loki’s stare the entire time, the sparkling blue of his eyes even more arrogant than usual. Loki rolled his eyes in frustration once more.

   “I do not know what has gotten into you, today, brother” he mumbled, even though he _knew_ – knew that it wasn’t only today. That it had been going on for hat it had been going on for _years_ now. That Thor’s gaze was never leaving him alone although his brother had never felt so far away, that Thor’s burning presence tailed him everywhere even though they hardly spent time together anymore. And it made Loki feel more and more uneasy each passing day; it was like he was constantly followed by Thor. Like every moment of his day belonged to his brother. Thor, _Thor_ , always _Thor_.

   But what angered him even more was the fact that he couldn’t understand or _read_ his brother anymore – that he felt like he was spending his days with a stranger. And deep down, he knew it saddened him. It was tearing him apart.

   “You look beautiful, brother” said Thor, his voice hoarse and rough just next to his brother’s ear.

   Loki nearly chocked at that.

   “What?” he whispered.

   “Just…” continued Thor, his electric eyes burning a hole in the mirror. “It suits you. You chose well for your new armour.”

   He then snaked a hand around Loki’s waist and under his arm, his fingers roaming his brother’s golden chest plate.

   “You wear gold like a king, brother” murmured Thor right into Loki’s ear, and Loki thought for a moment that his heart would stop beating for good this time. “Although I thought you’d choose silver.”

   “N-no” stammered Loki. He cleared his throat, schooled his expression and continued with a steadier voice: “No, I prefer the golden one. It changes a bit from what I usually wear. It’s more… Noble. More fit for your coronation.” He was babbling now. _Babbling_. “I thought it would please you, brother.”

   “It does! But I must admit I’m surprised.”

   Loki smirked under his nose and spun on his heels to face Thor.

   “My, my, brother. And I thought I was such an open book.”

   Thor chuckled, and Loki savoured the familiar laugh full of mirth that he unfortunately hadn’t heard in a while.

   “Stop it, Loki” grinned Thor. “You know well enough you’re not. You’re full of secrets, full of mischief. You twist words as you please, brother.”

   He paused for a moment, and Loki remained silent as he didn’t know what to reply.

   “You ensnare and charm everyone.”

   Loki snorted at that. His poor fool of a brother was more of an idiot than he had thought. Was he _this_ blind that he couldn’t see all of Asgard at his feet and his feet only? That there was no one left for Loki?

   “But I hardly know when you’re being sincere” finished Thor, his gaze heavy and clouded as it roamed his brother’s face.

   Loki refrained himself from snapping at Thor. He wasn’t about to ruin this moment. It was the most normal conversation he’d had with Thor in a few months.

   “I used to be able to read you too, brother” murmured Loki, his voice barely an echo drifting in the space between their bodies. “But now… Your behaviour contradicts my expectations every day.”

   He extended a pale, lean finger and ran it down Thor’s simple, silver chest plate. His brother sucked in a breath.

   “It’s like you’re hiding from me on purpose.”

   Thor’s façade slipped at that moment, and even if he regained his composure quickly, for a split second, all those raw, hidden emotions were there for Loki to see. It was like burning fire and raging thunder, storm clouds and summer sun, crystal river and restless ocean. There was pain, lust, guilt, love, ache, hunger, grief and joy.

   Loki did his best not to step back – or better, turn around and run away from his brother. His _brother_ , who was more like a stranger now that Loki saw it all.

   _No_.

   Thor couldn’t. It must have been a mistake. A mistake.

   “Whatever do you mean, brother?” asked Thor, his voice very calm.

   An uncontrollable shiver ran down Loki’s spine. A shiver of fear at how well his brother was able to hide his thoughts; a shiver of excitement and anticipation at what Thor would do with those feelings.

   “Well, _I_ thought you would choose a golden armour” chuckled Loki, trying to make his voice light.

   Thor blinked.

   “Oh” he said, smiling lightly, some of the tension visibly leaving his body. “Well, I chose it while thinking of you, Loki.”

   Loki paled.

   “What?” he huffed.

   Thor smiled.

   “Well, they call you _Silvertongue_ , do they not?”

   Loki felt his blood rush to his head even if it seemed like his heart stopped beating – it was making him light-headed and the whole room spun around him. He gasped on the little air that remained in his lungs.

   “I think they mean it rather in a pejorative way, brother” he choked out.

   Thor’s smile fell a bit.

   “You should not mind what they say” he said. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. I think it’s a gift you have” assured him Thor, lifting his hand and curling it around Loki’s neck, just like he had been doing since their younger years.

   Loki instinctively leaned into the warmth.

   “You charm everyone with your wits” continued Thor. “You don’t even realize it. You can talk yourself around anything. You’re so full of grace – not only your mind, but also your body” he added after a moment of hesitation, and Loki winced, as Thor’s hand was like a burning brand on his neck, now. “You lure your preys into your trap and you never let them go” he finished, his voice a bare whisper.

   Loki bit his lip, his eyes and nose burning slightly. He felt the warmth flowing from his neck in his veins, and reaching to every inch of his body.

   It was just like if they were children – Thor would say nice things to cheer him up when someone insulted him.

   Loki felt _loved_.

   “Well” he said in a hoarse voice. “I do like having you branded with my colours.”

   He then smiled, genuinely _smiled_ , and brought his hand to Thor’s neck too, returning the affectionate gesture.

   Thor let out a shaky breath and dug his fingers deeper into Loki’s flesh. He made a small noise that sounded like a wounded animal and then Loki felt like the floor was being pulled from under his feet.

   He staggered backwards, his spine hitting the mirror behind him with full force, a dull ache throbbing in his shoulders where Thor had gripped him and pushed him. Loki winced, and he started opening his mouth to yell, snarl, scold – _anything_ , really – but Thor was already there, clouding his space, inhaling his air, body slotted against his brother, his warm hands finding his neck once again.

   “ _Brother_ ” he gasped, and it was so full of sin and yet so pure at the same time that Loki felt like his head was going to explode.

   “T-Thor…” he stuttered, and had to stop immediately because of his brother’s thumbs pressing small circles into his neck.

   “Brother, I want you to brand me” breathed Thor. “I would be all yours. I just want _you_ to be _mine_ , and I’ll give you _everything_. I’ll grant all your wishes and desires.”

   Loki was choking on his air; he wanted to scream at Thor to just _stop_. Scream that it was too much for his brain. A part of his mind, the sane and rational one, was laughing and cackling and giggling with delight at this sight of Thor – _Thor_ , his perfect, golden brother, who was now broken, desperate, openly admitting his incestuous feelings for his younger brother before him. Not so perfect now, was he?

   But the other part – the foolish one that held the soft spot for Thor – that part was gasping and moaning with delight that Loki finally had Thor’s whole, unwavering attention on him, and _only_ him. That the fact they grew apart wasn’t so much Loki’s fault as it was Thor’s. That Thor actually still _loved_ him despite what he was showing and how he was acting every day; better than that, he was _in love_.

   Thor leaned in, bringing his lips just an inch apart from his brother’s mouth.

   “Please, say _yes_ ” he whispered. “And I’ll do anything, brother.”

   He didn’t wait for Loki’s answer and closed the small gap between them.

   It was soft and yet demanding, slow and full of love and desire at the same time.

   Loki realized only now that he had tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

 

* * *

 

   “When did you knew, Thor?” asked Loki.

   Thor sighed, his fingers still threading his brother’s tousled, black hair. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing, along with Loki’s head laying on it.

   “I think I always knew, deep inside” he admitted, his voice still hoarse and tired after they made love. “And I felt guilty. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. But one day I saw you, bare-chested, sparing with Sif. It was rare to see you on the training grounds, even at that time, before you completely stopped attending training sessions. So I was surprised, and I stayed and watched. I watched you dance, your hair in the wind, your body so lithe and graceful and yet so full of power. I remember how your fingers sparked green magic as you conjured daggers and knives.”

   “Yes, Sif accused me of cheating after I beat her” said Loki, his lips twisting in a small grimace.

   Thor chuckled faintly.

   “Maybe. I recall little after that, except the fact that I ran and hid in my quarters, and dreamt about kissing you every night since.”

   _And how you distanced yourself from me_ , Loki wanted to add.

   But for once, he didn’t. He just let it go, this time. He didn’t want to ruin their moment.

   He felt like he should say something. Thor had probably suffered his share of misery during all those years – maybe even more than Loki.

   “You’re my brother, Thor” he murmured, looking him straight in the eyes. “And you’re my best friend. Sometimes, I’m envious, but never doubt that I love you.”

   The words he uttered were so rare for him to say that they left a burning sensation in his mouth.

   Thor smiled, his eyes glossy because of the tears he was preventing from spilling, and propped himself on his elbow. His warm hand found its way to Loki’s neck.

   “Thank you, brother” he said, holding his brother’s gaze.

   Loki shifted a bit, still feeling uneasy under such an intense stare.

   “Now give us a kiss” he grinned, puckering his lips a bit, his eyes glinting with mischief.

   Thor snickered, mirth and happiness back in his eyes. And then he leaned, catching his brother’s already swollen lips in his mouth. Loki gasped lightly but allowed Thor to take the lead. It was feathery light, nothing like their bruising kisses from just half an hour ago. He broke the kiss to breath the air Thor expired.

   “By the way” Loki smirked, feeling his usual mischief coming back to him, “I glimpsed at some designs for your helmet in the tailor’s notebook.”

   Thor raised his eyebrows, waiting expectantly.

   “I have to say, _nice feathers_ , brother.”

   Thor snorted at that, his gleeful laugh rumbling in the air between them like one of his thunders. He reached on the floor beside the bed and held Loki’s golden helmet by one of the horns. Loki did his best not to flush at the memory of his brother ordering him to keep his helmet on and of his big hands gripping the horns to pull Loki’s head back while he pounded him from behind.

   Thor threw the helmet at him and Loki thanked the Norns for his reflexes or else the heavy, golden object would have crashed on his face. His brother grinned at him, amusement glinting in his eyes, and Loki wondered if he himself looked this provocative and flirty when pulling a prank on someone.

   “You don’t really want to start this, do you, _cow_?”

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I started this fic fully intending to write a nice, little PWP one-shot. But then I kinda got lost in their feelings, so I skipped the smut, oops. I may write a deleted scene with *cough* more explicit content *cough*, but it will all depends on my level of laziness.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Cheers!


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